


Refuse to give in

by MagiraMayuya



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:21:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27484153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagiraMayuya/pseuds/MagiraMayuya
Summary: After Dante's defeat at the hands of Urizen, V had been warned by Jeanne about the gracelessness of death.She had even gone so far as to steal the fruit for him to eat.Because he could not give in, for his brother apparently still needed him, and now so did his son.
Relationships: Dante & Nero & Vergil (Devil May Cry), Dante & Nero (Devil May Cry), Nero & Vergil (Devil May Cry)
Kudos: 10





	Refuse to give in

**Author's Note:**

> This is literally just a Thing I had to do for an AU I created. 
> 
> Jeanne is Dante's daughter, made the same way angels are, because I thought the irony was too good. In this timeline, DMC2 happens before the anime, and it's after Dante returns from Hell that he gets Jeanne.
> 
> If this is something y'all like, you're going to love the extended version of this story, when I finally finish it.

**June 15, 11:47AM**

V was dying, if his decreasing presence was any indicator. Having found Dante, it was now a desperate scramble to reach the top of the tree, hopefully soon, before Urizen could grab the fruit that would soon emerge. 

Jeanne just hoped that she could carry V with what little strength she had left. 

“You have to hold on, V. We’re almost there.” Jeanne whispered, breathing heavily between wingbeats. Despite her divine gifts, the Sanctuary she’d been maintaining had drained her abilities far beyond what she’d imagined. The man, what small amount of humanity was left from the division of Vergil, was clinging to her shoulders. 

A few more beats, and they reached the base of the final mount, but not before running into a problem. 

Malphos.

**12:36PM**

Jeanne could hear the way space tore itself apart, as she grappled with the final branch barring their approach to the king fruit. Urizen was coming, and he was fast approaching. Jeanne prayed, prayed with whatever breath she could find as she sliced the stem of the horrid, abomination of a fruit from its branch, tumbling as the sudden loss of weight caused the arm she was balancing on to collapse. 

Jeanne continued her prayer, to the God above that he _would not_ let this day end with her father killing his brother yet again. To her great relief, when Urizen’s terrifying visage fell upon the field, a blast from Blue Rose disrupted the tyrant from his approach. The ground rumbled as he stepped, and seeing Nero in his full trigger lifted Jeanne’s very soul, and then Dante’s arrival caused her heart to soar, as Urizen staggered under their joint assault, the ground quaking. Jeanne reached for the fruit, stumbling towards it. Under her fingers, the flesh shrunk, an apple now fitting into her palm. 

With a final, steely glare at the tyrant demon, she poured whatever she had into her wings, flinging herself from the battle, ignoring the angered cry of the devil behind her. 

She needed to find V.

\----

V had all but crumbled away, his familiars waning, unable to maintain even themselves properly. The man looked mortified as Jeanne came to a screeching halt on the ground before him, huffing and wheezing in intense pain. 

What a wreck the two of them must have looked.

“You did not need to-” V began, coughing heavily into his hand. Jeanne gave a protesting grumble.

“I did. You need this, more than that _thing_ ever did.” She sighed, rolling the jewelled fruit to V. He picked it up, and pondered it in the late day sun. 

“Why would you risk so much for me?” V gripped his cane tighter, as he lifted his failing body from the ground, Shadow manifesting at his feet.

“Because,” Jeanne winced as she too, took a stand, “You must remember.” 

V had resigned himself to losing this war of attrition. He had all but given up his hopes for Vergil, that that man would retain his human regrets and desires, until Jeanne had at last abandoned her Sanctuary to climb the tree. 

_“It would be better if I were to die here, child.” V had told Jeanne, that fateful night after their first loss. Jeanne had remained resolute, scolding him even for entertaining such thoughts._

_“Never.” She had spat, giving him a glare that V could have sworn was Eva herself controlling this young woman, “Death is not the answer. Father would not survive it.”_

_Silence had come between them, for a while, as Jeanne gathered another bottle of holy water, consuming it hastily._

_“If I were to die here, then I would become another bad memory. There would be nothing left.” V picked up his book again, looking forlornly at the pages, turning them delicately. Jeanne’s anger had increased, incensed by V’s nihilism._

_“Is that what you think? That you’re just something to forget?” Jeanne’s eyes turned to sorrow, tears streaking her face, sobs echoing through the sanctified hall they occupied._

_“Let me scorch this into your memory,_ uncle _,” Jeanne’s fury was palpable, as the holy energy around them crackled with renewed power, “Father tells me, when he lost you that day, that he has had to carry your memory for you,” V watched as Jeanne’s face turned to shame and horror, and he felt his own heart flutter with panic. Griffon’s wings fluttered around his lungs, electricity sparking with his breaths, the familiar unable to take form under the holy spells Jeanne had created._

_“For years, he has remembered for you. And now, because of you,” Jeanne gripped her head, nails digging into her scalp as pain racked through her head, “Because of you, he has to carry my memory.” V turned his eyes away, ashamed of his crimes, of who he had allowed himself to become._

_“If you ask him to carry one more memory, if you’re asking him to atone for your own sins,” Jeanne growled, slowly regaining herself, “Then there will be no damnation to spare you. Live. Win. Take back for yourself, instead of being taken._ You _must remember.”_

V lifted the blood-born apple to his lips and bit down. The taste was of anguish, lamentations and desperation all rolled around his tongue as he forced himself to swallow, the food heavy in his stomach. The second bite was easier, and the third was nothing, as the familiars within him, even the proud Phantom he could not control consciously, all roused, renewed. 

The air pulsed, putrid with loss and a sense of violence. 

Urizen had fallen under Dante and Nero’s blade. Realising that, V summoned Nightmare, urging his niece onto the creature’s back.

“Go,” He waved his hand, Griffon upon his shoulder, lifting V into the air. 

It was time to win, to take back all he had lost.

**3:06PM**

The battle had worn all the warriors down, Dante and Nero slumped one against the other, Urizen laying on the ground, great gashes covering his chest, and large swathes of flesh and tree roots were strewn over the field. V’s eyes were graced with the destroyed, bloody mess, as Griffon set him down near the hunting duo. 

“You made it,” Nero laughed, pointing Red Queen’s broken tip at the downed monster, “But you missed out on all the fun.” the hunter huffed, Dante chuckling softly. V found a bitter smile, turning to approach the mass of demonic power that was his other half.

“You…” Urizen rumbled, his palms struggling for purchase against the blood-soaked ground under him.

“Do not struggle.” V warned, clambering up Urizen’s body to his chest, looking down at the multitudes of eyes, each one watching him.

“You have taken from me, what is mine!” Urizen shouted, V stumbling backwards from the rush of air. Urizen’s body slacked, exhausted. V felt the flesh under his feet give way, and with one last pained glance at Dante, he brought his cane into the air.

“I think you are mistaken,” V breathed, hearing Dante come to a stand, Nero demanding an explanation from the older hunter. 

But it was too late, V plunged his cane into the largest, exposed eye on Urizen’s chest, and mustered a spell under his breath.

“While thy branches mix with mine, and let our roots together join.”

V didn’t feel pain, nor panic or any other distress, as his brother and son called to him. He felt the familiars trapped within his skin dissipate, turning into images and names and thoughts that had once plagued his former self. Along with the flood of memories, the feeling of Urizen washed over him like a tidal wave, an unending lust for power and position, a desperation to undo the past, a dedication to the defeat of his brother. 

But V was resolved, he would not forget Jeanne’s warning, and he would not give up on the hope he held for reconciling with Nero. 

He could not die, because his brother needed him. 

And so V pushed back against the vile feelings and abominable thoughts Urizen had cleaved unto, and the waters parted. He stood the victor as Vergil reformed.

\------

The light faded, and from it emerged a man in a blue coat, his back to Dante and Nero. He rose to his feet shakily, using the Yamato he held in his hand to steady himself. Turning, his pale blue eyes came to meet Dante’s, and with only a glance at his brother’s momentous rage, Vergil felt tears sting his eyes.

He threw the Yamato to Nero, the young hunter thoroughly confused, as this newcomer flung himself into Dante’s chest, whispering words, pleading for forgiveness. And the red-clad hunter relented, blade dismissed, as he comforted Vergil. 

“Dante, who is-” Nero began, tying the Yamato to his waist, when he was suddenly pulled into a tight embrace. The blue that clouded his vision confirmed it wasn’t Dante who was holding him, so Nero refrained from returning the gesture. 

“My son, look at you.” The stranger sighed, pulling away slightly, hands resting on Nero’s shoulders. The young man’s spectral wings shimmered, unsure of what was occurring before his eyes.  
“Nero, this is your old man.” Dante said nonchalantly, as Nero sputtered. For years, he had thought Dante his father, a silent lack of acknowledgement either way his confirmation. It knocked the wind out of his sails to hear otherwise, and the smile on his apparent father’s lips seemed almost too gentle.

“I thought you a fool once, Dante,” Vergil retreated from Nero’s space, eyes full of some fond feeling, “But I think I am truly the fool.” 

Dante laughed, full guffaws and gasping breaths, Vergil chuckling softly. Nero looked upon the display incredulously.

“I suppose that’s as good as an apology I’ll get, isn’t it, Verge?”

“Indubitably.”


End file.
